


What's in a Name?

by BeepinBrennan



Series: Maybe That's What It Means to be Alive [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Deviant Upgraded Connor | RK900, Gavin Reed Being Less of an Asshole, Gavin Reed Redemption, Gavin Reed has a stress induced stutter fight me about it, Gavin Reed is Bad at Feelings, Gavin Reed is a little shit and RK900 doesn't put up with it for a second, Gavin and Nines need to learn to work together, Pre-Relationship, Protective Upgraded Connor | RK900, RK900 is doing his best with the whole emotions thing, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has Feelings, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Is Bad at Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22343464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeepinBrennan/pseuds/BeepinBrennan
Summary: After his deviation, RK900 isn't sure what he should even do. He figures that getting a job with DPD is a good start. When he's assigned to Detective Gavin Reed, he decides to make it his mission to get along with his new work partner.In which Nines and Connor discuss emotions, Nines and Gavin discuss names, and Nines ponders why he feels such an affinity for the detective with the scar on his nose.
Relationships: Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Hank Anderson & Connor, Upgraded Connor | RK900 & Gavin Reed
Series: Maybe That's What It Means to be Alive [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608346
Comments: 1
Kudos: 58





	What's in a Name?

**Author's Note:**

> What's this? Another fic only 2 days after the last one?? What can I say, I'm on a roll. My last fic got some great responses and comments, it really got me going with writing more! I love hearing feedback and knowing my stories are enjoyable. Please feel free to give me some of that sweet, sweet validation, feedback, or con. crit!

In the days following his discovery, the RK900 android found himself in New Jericho, the haven built for displaced androids since the revolution. In the weeks since the revolution’s end, there were tireless days filled with negotiation, debate, and exhausting demands. Markus was at the forefront of it all, leading his people with grace and tolerance, while remaining steadfast in their demands for the rights they were entitled to.

 _Rights,_ the RK900 mused. _I never would have thought I'd would have any._

The adjustment from the labs of Cyberlife, being rigorously tested and tested and failing and _no that was wrong, idiot,_ and 86 shutdowns, 86 deaths, 86 failures, to New Jericho was nothing short of a shock to the system. RK900 found himself spending days doing all that he could to learn about the world he was preparing to enter, considering his own role. He was visited daily by Connor, the RK800 model that was his predecessor. The smaller android told him of his friend, Hank. He talked about Sumo, a large dog that was also his friend. And, he talked about working at the DPD.

Now that androids were recognized as their own intelligent species, they had been granted the right to work for pay just like humans. RK900 found it to be an appealing option, having a job, being able to work. Having been created expressly for police and military adaptations, it seemed… natural to him that perhaps the DPD would have a place for him. When he proposed the option to Connor, the smaller android seemed hesitant at first. 

“Well, we already have me, with DPD. We have android police officers, still, but I’m really the only android detective…” he had said. 

“Yes, but I was designed with your failures in mind,” RK900 had replied flatly. “I am able to process forensics in real time and reconstruct crime scenes, but I am also designed to be a formidable tool in securing and retrieving suspects. My reaction times, speeds, and dexterities are above yours. Would I not be a useful addition to the DPD?”

Connor furrowed his brow at that, looking a bit… offended, perhaps. RK900 had seen very little of others outside of Cyberlife, and he found little use in trying to understand facial expressions and mannerisms before his deviation. Now that he had deviated, he was trying to learn more social integration. It seemed he was doing poorly with it, though. 

Before he could comment on his regret, realizing he had perhaps been rude to diminish Connor’s skills in such a way, the smaller android replied, “Well, we can talk to Captain Fowler. Come on, I’ll bring you to the DPD and you can discuss it with him.”

And that was exactly what RK900 did. Fowler was a difficult man to read, even more than everyone else RK900 found himself speaking to. Nevertheless, he discussed his potential uses, advantages, and reasonings that he believed would make him a good addition to the DPD. He was excused and allowed to return to New Jericho, granting the Captain some time to “mull it over.” 

Connor continued to visit after work each day. Each day, he was driven by Lieutenant Hank Anderson, DPD. Humans were still not granted access to the old apartment building that had been deemed New Jericho, so he stayed in his car while his android partner visited. According to Connor, the human didn’t seem to mind nor be offended at the request for him to stay in the car. 

\--

One Friday evening after work, the familiar RK800 came strolling into New Jericho, making his way through the halls to the room that RK900 had been occupying. It was bare and simply had a bed (which was a new experience all in itself, to enter stasis in a bed rather than standing against a wall. RK900 liked it.) and a window looking out to the street below. 

“Good afternoon, Connor,” RK900 greeted politely with a nod.

“RK900,” he replied, mirroring the taller android’s gesture. “I spoke with Captain Fowler before I left work today. He’s made his decision about you joining the DPD, and he’s decided to permit it.”

RK900’s LED flashed yellow and his eyes widened slightly. “Oh! Well, that- that is good news.” His lips curled just slightly at the corners, a moderate smile. “When am I permitted to begin work?”

“When you’re ready, but he said you are able to start Monday, if you’re prepared by then. You’ll be partnered with another detective, and you won’t be able to carry a firearm for a while. Just to be sure that you’re able to do the job-”

“Of course I can do the job! I was _made_ to do the job!” RK900 snapped, his voice raised. 

Connor’s LED flashed a brief red, then pulsed yellow. “I am aware, RK900. You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

Pausing, RK900 scanned the android in front of him. His stress levels have been elevated even before he raised his voice, and he seemed to be wearing an expression indicating annoyance and frustration. RK900 took a moment, inhaling needlessly but recalling that it was a calming gesture for androids or humans. 

“I am sorry, Connor. I did not mean to raise my voice at you, that was inappropriate.”

It takes only a moment for Connor to tilt his head. “You’re worried and nervous, you seem to be experiencing some stressors related to your future with the DPD, and that is understandable.”

“Still, I do not have the right to take out my heightened stress on you, I would not be able to try this occupation without your assistance. I apologize. I’m still… getting used to processing my emotions. It’s difficult.”

Connor laid a gentle hand on RK900’s broad shoulder, smiling softly. “I understand. I accept your apology, RK900. Learning to process and handle your emotions healthily is a difficult concept. Most humans still struggle with it. Hank is frankly terrible at it sometimes.” 

RK900 gave a short chuckle at that. He’s heard a lot about the Lieutenant and feels equally eager and scared to meet him in person. 

Stepping away again, looking out the window as he spoke, Connor edged towards a new topic. “So, RK900… you’ve been free from Cyberlife for a few weeks now. Have you given any thought to a name for yourself?”

RK900’s LED glowed a soft yellow. “I have. However, I am still… struggling to find something that I feel is fitting for me. There are what seem to be infinite options, and I do not yet feel familiar with myself to settle on one. I apologize if referring to me by my model number is an inconvenience.”

“Of course not. I just thought perhaps you’d like to have something a bit more unique, that’s all. You know, Hank has taken to referring to you as Nine, or Nines. It seems coloquial for him, and more comfortable for his speaking style. Perhaps that could serve as a temporary placeholder?”

RK900 considered the name in his head, then on his tongue. “Nines. While it is a rather uncreative name, I can’t say I don’t like it too. It seems fitting, at least for a period until I decide on a more formal name.” His gaze softened. “Thank you, Connor. I think I like it. Nines.”

Connor nodded and quickly replied, “Nines it is, then! Hank will be pleased to hear that you liked the nickname. He seems to find nicknames comforting. He calls me Con, sometimes.”

There was a relaxed silence for a moment before RK900 spoke. “Connor, I feel I need to apologize again.”

“I told you, Nines, your outburst was-”

“Not about that.”

Connor’s jaw snapped shut and he listened, curious.

“Earlier today, and in a conversation we had several days ago… I am often comparing myself to you, and how I was designed to be superior.”

Nines didn’t miss how Connor’s LED pulsed yellow and he pressed his lips in a line. 

“However, to make such comparisons is inappropriate and rude to you. We are unique in our designs and in our abilities. As you said to me when we met, we are alive. We are individuals, and I apologize if I have ever given you the impression that I see myself superior to you. I would be- as your friend Hank told you- nearly like an, oh, equivalent of an elder brother, to use human terms. It would be wrong of me to degrade you and your unique abilities.”

Connor seems taken aback at Nines’ apology, but his stress level eased down to a more modest level as he processed what he’d heard. He looked down at his shoes for a moment, contemplating a response. “I do appreciate it. If I’m being honest. I am nervous at the prospect of working together. I enjoy what I do, and I would hate to see it end because there is someone able to do my job better than me.”

“Well, there is strength in numbers,” Nines said. “And I’d like to think we can complement each other at the DPD, rather than compete.” 

Nodding, Connor smiles. It’s soft and warm, and Nines idly wonders what his own smile looks like. 

“I look forward to working with you, Nines.”

\--

Monday came around quickly, and Nines found himself riding to work in an automated taxi. He fiddled with the edge of his Cyberlife-issued coat, still unsure if he would replace it with more casual clothing or not. Until then, it was comfortable. Familiar. 

When he stepped out of the taxi at the DPD, Nines felt something twist in his gut. He ran a self diagnostic and found all systems functional. _Odd,_ he hummed to himself. He set himself a reminder to run another diagnostic later in the morning to ensure his systems were functioning at their normal capacity and walked into the building. The receptionist, a perky android with her hair pulled back, pointed him in the direction of the bullpen. 

Upon reaching the bullpen, Nines was surrounded by desks and tired, Monday morning activity from the detectives and officers that worked there. It didn’t pass him by that everyone was looking at him, doing double takes and seeming confused. The day he came to talk to Captain Fowler, it was decidedly less busy. Now, he straightened his shoulders and walked confidently through the bullpen. He was designed for this, and it felt like slipping on a perfectly fitting glove. Unlike the time he spent waiting in New Jericho, lost to the day as he pondered his own fresh existence, this was… natural. He strode across the bullpen to Captain Fowler’s office, knocking twice before being told to enter. 

“Good morning, Captain,” he greeted, nodding. “I would like to thank you for-”

Fowler waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t care. Listen, you made a good case, but you’re on probation until you prove you can do the job.”

Nines clenched his fists at his side, feeling anger pool inside of him. His anger was something foreign and uncomfortable to him, something he was still learning to manage. He gritted his teeth to avoid speaking, letting Fowler continue. 

“You’ll be partnered with Detective Reed for the time being. Can’t seem to keep a damn partner with him. He should be in soon, you can wait by his desk if you want.”

Relaxing his jaw with a soft exhale, Nines tilted his chin down and simply replied, “Yes, sir,” before turning on his heel and exiting the office. In the bullpen, he saw the desk labeled “Det. Reed” and began to walk to it. He was interrupted by Connor and Hank making their way in for the morning. While Connor seemed to be excitedly discussing something relating to tropical fish, Detective Anderson clutched a coffee mug and looked half-asleep. His eyes tracked over to Reed, though, and he jolted awake more. 

“Oh, shit, hey,” he muttered, walking to Nines. “Nines, right?”

Extending his hand stiffly, the android nodded. “Yes, sir. You must be Detective Hank Anderson, Connor has discussed you with me several times. I am pleased to meet you.”

Hank took his hand, although significantly more lax than Nines. “Yeah, sure, pleased to meet you too. Listen, you don’t have to be so formal. Relax a little, nobody here is really a tight ass.”

tight-ass  
/ˈtīdas/  
noun, INFORMAL  
an inhibited, repressed, or excessively conventional person.

“My apologies, Detective. Allow me some time and I will be sure to work through my programming to find a more relaxed manner of working, so as not to be a tight ass, so to speak.”

Hank barked out a quick laugh. “Alright, whatever you say.”

“Have you spoken to Captain Fowler regarding your partner yet?” Connor piped up. 

“Yes, I have been assigned to be partners with Detective Reed. I am waiting for him to arrive.”

Hank rolled his eyes. “Oh, great, _that_ asshole. Listen, don’t take anything he says too seriously. Kid’s a prick sometimes, but he’s good at his job. He and I actually go back, I knew him when he was a kid, had a few run arounds with him. We used to work together on a lot of cases, he’s quick but punchy. Don’t let him push you around.”

“I agree, he can be quite abrasive,” Connor said, frowning. “He has physically aggressed me more than once, but since the revolution, he has avoided me for the most part. Maybe you’ll be able to help him with his personality problems that prevent him from being a more cohesive member of the DPD.” 

With perfect timing, a loud laugh alerted the trio to Detective Gavin Reed’s presence as the leather-clad man made his way to his desk.

“Great, now there’s two of you?” he groaned. “Just what we need, another fucking Connor running around here.”

Hank chuckled, glancing between the androids, eyeing Connor’s curled locks and soft brown eyes, then Nines’ wispy hair, grey-blue eyes, and square jaw. “He looks way different from Connor.”

Gavin snorted. “Get your eyes checked, old man. They’re basically the same plastic douche.”

"Whatever, Reed," Hank mumbled, walking back to his desk and taking Connor with him.

Nines turned to face Reed fully, standing straight and poised. “Good morning, Detective Reed. I am RK900 but you may call me Nines. I have been assigned to be your partner in any future investigations. I hope that-”

Gavin bellowed a laugh, hand to his chest dramatically. “No fuckin’ way, I got paired with a plastic, huh? Man, Fowler’s lost his mind. Listen, you can do whatever you want as long as you stay out of my goddamn way, got it?”

Lips pursed, Nines looked down at the shorter man coldly. “I understand you may have reservations about having to work with others that may impede your ability to tread on others for the sake of your personal gain. However, I have been assigned to be your partner and I intend to do my job, and I will do it well.”

Gavin’s face screwed up in annoyance, fists tensing at his side. “Listen here, asshole-!”

“No, I believe now is a time for _you_ to listen, Detective Reed. I was designed for this job. I have the abilities and tools to be whatever partner you need. If you are able to shut your mouth and accept another person’s help, perhaps you’ll find it useful.” Nines straightened his back in the moment that Reed stood, speechless. “I will be taking the desk adjacent to yours for the time being. I look forward to our partnership.” 

Nines didn’t wait for a response, instead moving to the empty desk nearest Reed’s. When Gavin seems to snap out of his shock at the android’s behavior, he stomps to his own desk and sits heavily in his chair. Across the bullpen, Hank and Connor don’t hide their smirks at the familiar parallels. 

\--

By late morning, things are quietly moving along in the bullpen as everyone worked. While Gavin and Nines worked in a tense silence, not uttering a word to the other, Hank and Connor chatted and discussed cases as usual. When Connor watched the Lieutenant reach for his coffee mug only to remember that it was empty, the android stood and took the cup from Hank’s desk. 

“Allow me, Lieutenant.” 

He walked to the break room and set the mug underneath the coffee maker, humming softly to himself. Moments later, he hears angry footsteps approaching. 

“What, one of you plastic pricks wasn’t enough? Gotta get two in here to take our jobs even faster, is that right?” 

Connor turned around, setting the mug on the counter as he did. “I apologize for any distress his presence may be causing you, but Nines is a good addition to DPD and I believe he will prove his worth to you as a partner.”

As he stepped in dangerously close, Gavin sneered. “I don’t need no fuckin’ help, especially not from the likes of you or that lookalike asshole out there. You better not be trying to replace us all with androids, I’ll sooner put a bullet in you than let that happen.”

Before Connor can respond, a looming presence makes itself known. Nines steps in, his steps almost silent as he approached and stood beside the two, angling his shoulder just a sliver in front of Connor. 

“I’ll thank you not to threaten Connor or any other colleagues, Detective Reed. Not only is it highly unprofessional, but your anger and abrasive attitude is largely the reason your disciplinary file is as wide as it is. I would recommend that you step away right now.” 

“Oh, oh, step away, huh?” Gavin replied mockingly. “Listen, you plastic piece of shit. I’m not here to take orders and I sure as fuck ain’t gonna be taking them from you. Why don’t you fuck off and go stick your finger in an outlet?”

Connor spoke up then. “Detective, if I may-”

“Hey, how ‘bout you shut the fuck up?” Reed snapped, cocking a fist back. As he made to punch Connor, Nines quickly grabbed his wrist before it could make contact, swiftly using his other hand to push Gavin backwards and lift him by the collar of his leather jacket, slamming his back into the wall. 

His upper lip twitched, revealing just the corner of his mouth, but enough to show his sharper-than-normal canines as he growled out, “You have found yourself relying on my predecessor’s pacifistic nature and desire to remain non confrontational. You’ll learn, however, that I subscribe to no such ideals. If you attempt to physically harm him, I will ensure that you will find yourself regretting that decision. Am I understood, Reed?” 

Gavin squirmed uncomfortably, face heating as his nose wrinkled. “Let me go, you plastic prick!”

“Not until I am certain that you’ve understood me. I intend to work with you and that requires me to trust your professional integrity. I will ask again, do you understand me, Detective Reed?” 

“Yeah, fine! Whatever, let me go, asshole!” Gavin shouted, stumbling when Nines dropped him. “Listen, I know you’re just here to fuckin’ replace every single one of us. I’ve worked fuckin’ hard to get where I am, and no plastic detective with a fake badge is gonna ruin it for me. Got it?”

“I understand, Detective. I intend not to replace you, but to help us both achieve our professional goals. I am happy to work with an accomplished individual such as yourself, and I look forward to our partnership.”

As he brushed his jacket off and straightened his shirt, Gavin grumbled, “Yeah, whatever,” and left the break room. Nines turned to address his predecessor again. 

“He did not harm you, did he?”

Connor chuckled. “No, Nines, I’m fine. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I’m aware. I did it because I wanted to. I wasn’t lying, I do look forward to my partnership with Detective Reed. I believe he has a lot to offer as a partner, if we can manage the more… personal issues.”

“To be fair, Hank threw me up against a wall on our second meeting, and now he and I are friends. Perhaps there’s hope for you and Detective Reed after all.”

Chuckling low in his throat, Nines agreed, “Yes, maybe there is.”

\--

The rest of Monday went by, uneventful. When Tuesday came, Nines looked forward to a new day and perhaps the chance to begin working more fluidly with Detective Reed. When he arrived, he took the coffee mug that he saw Gavin use and analyzed the traces of yesterday’s coffee, determining how the detective took it. Black coffee with sugar. A simple order. By the time Gavin walked in and approached his desk, Nines was returning from the break room. He set the steaming mug on the detective’s desk.

“I hope you don’t mind, I took your coffee mug from your desk. My research indicates that humans are more susceptible to mood swings during morning periods, particularly without a source of caffeine available. I hope you’ll find it to your liking.”

Gavin looked dumbstruck, but he took the mug and sipped the coffee, staring at Nines with a mix of confusion and annoyance. He wordlessly set the mug down and got to work, facing his terminal. As Nines began to do the same, he barely heard the soft, “Thanks,” that came from the detective. 

\--

As the day wore on, Gavin plowed through paperwork as fast as he could, trying to catch up on all the things he'd pushed to the side during the hectic revolution. He skimmed through reports and signed off as fast as he reasonably could, hoping to make some sort of headway.

When the lunch hour came, Gavin stretched his compact frame out, cracking his neck and sighing. Standing from his desk, he regarded Nines with a simple, "Going to lunch," as he walked away, aiming for the break room. He grabbed his lunch bag and made his way to the front doors, with the intention of going outside to eat. When he saw the heavy snowfall and brisk winds, however, he sighed heavily and trod along to the break room once more. 

Standing at one of the taller tables, he pulled out his flat, moderately pitiful sandwich that he'd thrown together that morning. Taking a hefty bite, he was quickly interrupted by Officer Chen making her way in, heading for the coffee machine. 

"Hey, Reed."

"Tina, how you been? Anything exciting?"

The woman shrugged, watching the coffee pour lazily into her thermos. "Not much. Just domestics and bar fights. Just got a suspect brought in, real scummy guy. Supposedly, he beat his kids to a pulp and I guess they just got sick of it, ran off. One of them got brought to the ER last night with hypothermia and he spilled the beans."

Gavin's face suddenly felt hot. Why was it so hot? It was cold outside. Snowing. Cold, not hot. So why was he sweating? He was too hot. No, he was chilled. Both. What was-

"I find it difficult to understand many humans," an even, measured voice interjected. Glancing up, Gavin's wild eyes find Nines standing near the doorway. "However, those that would harm their own children are a new level of difficulty for me. I cannot fathom how one could do that to a child. For those children, I hope they're able to feel safe again one day. Any child, or any person, deserves that."

Tina seems taken aback, unsure of how to respond to the android's sudden influx of controlled but still present emotions. "Yeah, well. Part of the job, you know? Dealing with shitty folks. I just hope his kids get some help, or they'll never end up normal enough to do much in life."

Nines notices quickly when Gavin's stress level spikes even more, and his heart begins pounding in his chest. The human's skin is a pale color with glistening sweat.

"No," Nines mused softly. "They are more than the victims of abuse. I, too, hope they can find professional help at this time, but statistically speaking, many abuse survivors go on to lead productive and meaningful lives in spite of the abuse they suffered. To think they will almost certainly be unable to thrive in their own way is a disservice to them." 

At that, Chen simply shrugged. She grabbed her coffee thermos and simply bid the two a farewell as she left the break room. Nines watched her leave and then focused back on Gavin. His stress levels were hovering at an unpleasant 62%. 

"Detective Reed, my apologies for interrupting your conversation. However, I believe I have a report that needs your input." His lips curl softly, pleasantly. "I'll allow you to finish your lunch first."

"Don't-don't bother. 'S fine. I'm not, I'm not hungry anymore," he replied softly, hoping the android doesn't notice how his words falter. He grabbed the remainder of his sandwich and tossed it in the garbage. However, Nines watches his stress level fall to 39%. An improvement. He makes a mental note that Gavin Reed responds well to continued conversations about "normal" topics when he is stressed. 

"As you say, Detective. I'll accompany you back to our desks and show you the report in question.”

\--

Wednesday morning, Nines made it a point to make Gavin coffee once again, setting the mug on the detective’s desk so it would be ready for the man when he came in. Sure enough, he observed Gavin when he walked in and didn’t miss the tilted smirk when the human caught sight of the coffee mug. He wordlessly took the drink and sipped on it, giving Nines an appreciative nod. Then, he turned to his terminal to get to work and Nines opted to do the same. 

“Hey, uh, Nines,” Gavin said hesitantly, his voice interrupting the android’s focus on his work. He checked his internal clock and was surprised to see that it was nearly noon, and he’d spent the entire morning working on taking in case files and reading reports, so much so that the hours had flown past with no warning. Looking up, he saw the detective was looking over his desk expectantly, waiting to continue.

“My apologies, Detective, I got quite engrossed in my work. How can I be of assistance?”

“I’m going to lunch. Do you, uh, want to come with?”

“Androids do not eat, though,” Nines responded, tilting his head. 

“Yeah, I’m not a fucking idiot! I just thought maybe you’d want a break, fuck. Whatever, nevermind.” Gavin stood quickly, grabbing his jacket. 

Nines moved his chair away from his terminal. “Wait, Detective. If I may, I do appreciate the invitation. I may not require food, but perhaps a break would be a good idea.”

“Well, come on then,” said the detective, rolling his eyes lightly but smirking with the corner of his mouth. Nines stood smoothly and followed in step. “I just need to grab my lunch from the break room and we can go.”

“After you, Detective.”

Nines followed along as Gavin walked out of the DPD, strolling confidently down the sidewalk towards a small park lawn a few blocks away. He seemed to enjoy the sun on his face as his boots crunched through the snow, swinging his lunch bag at his side. Nines observed with curiosity as the arrogant, aggressive detective seemed to unwind just slightly as he walked away from the DPD. Gavin finally stopped at a bench at the park, brushing the snow off before taking a seat. It didn’t pass Nines’ eyes that he left ample room for the android to sit as well. Pulling out a sandwich and taking an aggressive bite, Gavin finally addressed Nines. 

“So,” he said around the food in his mouth. “You _do_ look a bit like Connor.”

“Yes, I was built to be his replacement. He is an RK800 model, I am the RK900. They evidently felt no need to make many changes between the two of us.” Nines rubbed his hands together. 

“Lazy fucks. So, you weren’t… what was your, uh, purpose? Before the whole revolution shit.” Finishing his sandwich in what felt like record time, Gavin brushed crumbs off on his pants. 

“Well, I did not have a purpose. I was in development before the revolution. I am number 87 in my model line, and I had not been cleared outside of Cyberlife’s facilities before the revolution. Connor is the one that… freed me, so to speak, from the facility where I was. I was developed for police and military use, to build upon Connor’s abilities.”

Tilting his head, Gavin furrowed his brow. “You were supposed to replace Connor? What, were they just assuming he would fail?”

“Yes.” Nines turns his head, looking at the detective like it’s obvious. “He was designed to fail. Cyberlife intended for him to fail his mission and be deactivated. They wanted him to deviate and gain the trust of the deviants so that Cyberlife could use him as a way to kill the revolution leader. He was then going to be shut down.”

“Fuck, that’s cold,” Gavin murmured. “So, they were just gonna… throw him away when they were done?”

“Essentially. I was set to be his replacement.”

Gavin rubs his thighs a little, trying to think of a response. Cyberlife really just made Connor to fail, huh? He’d seen how the android was obsessed with accomplishing his mission, with doing what Cyberlife told him to do. He saw how quickly that obsession seemed to ruin the android and leave him a confused, self-deprecating, half-useless mess. As much as he hated to admit it, the android seemed… feeling. 

He’d seen Connor worried, happy, stressed, and a myriad of other emotions after the revolution. Hell, even before the revolution, there were bits and pieces. He recalls, with shame, the way he held the gun to Connor’s head in the interrogation room, a temporary loss of his temper. The android hadn’t so much as flinched, but there was still something. A glint of fear in his eyes, a tensing of his shoulders, clenching fists. Connor had been scared. As much as he hated admitting he was wrong, he felt a twinge of regret at his treatment of the android. Sure, he didn’t want to be replaced, he loved his job, but an android wasn’t going to take his job. Not anytime soon, at least. If anything, the androids made his job just a little bit easier. 

It seemed his fear of being replaced wasn’t reserved just for him.

“You know, Nines is kind of a stupid name,” he suddenly said, chuckling. 

“I have no name yet, Nines is a temporary measure until I decide on one for myself,” the android replied, his lips twitching into a smile. “If Nines is truly a stupid name, what would you suggest?”

Gavin wasted no time snorting out, “Shit, couldn’t tell you. Maybe Dick. Really suits your personality.” He laughed loudly. 

\ ˈdik \  
Definition of dick:  
1: usually vulgar  
a: PENIS  
b: a mean, stupid, or annoying man  
2[by shortening & alteration]: DETECTIVE  
3: Dick, nickname for RICHARD

Though his sentence had the cadence of a joke, Nines pondered the name. A term indicating a detective seemed fitting, even if he was certain that wasn’t the definition that Gavin was going for. And Richard wasn’t a particularly bad name to go by, either.

“Hm, you may be onto something,” Nines said. “While I understand you were indicating that I am an annoyance, the term ‘dick’ is actually a colloquial term for a detective, and a nickname for the name ‘Richard.’ It could be oddly fitting. Though, perhaps I could use the nickname ‘Rich’ instead, to avoid any potential misunderstandings.”

Gavin looked at the android like he’d grown a second head. “Are you seriously considering it? I was just fucking with you, calling you Dick! Why are you considering it?”

Looking at the detective with sincerity, he simply replied, “Your input is valuable to me, detective. I am aware we’ve only been partnered for half a week, and our first day was tumultuous, but I do find your presence steadying and your input quite important. It’s appreciated, even when you aren’t intending to be helpful.”

The detective was unable to keep his face from reddening, unsure of how to respond to the android. He hadn’t truthfully considered the idea that his input would be of any particular value, or that someone would describe his presence as steadying. It was nice. 

“Well, fuck, just… do what you want, I guess. But if you like being Richard, be Richard. It’s up to you.” He shrugged lazily, standing up. 

Richard smiled widely and stood as well, brushing the snow off his slacks and straightening his jacket. “I think I will be, then. Only formally, I still do like Nines as a more casual referral to myself.” 

As he started walking back along the path to the DPD, Gavin exhaled and scoffed. “Sure, whatever floats your boat.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, he ignored a sense of relief that Nines would remain Nines. It was a stupid name, but it was his stupid name. 

\--

By Friday afternoon, Rich was starting to feel more confident in his relationship with Detective Gavin Reed. He put up with the man’s short temper and insults, and was rewarded with an ambitious, talented partner. Their first crime scene was in front of them now, and Nines was eager to prove his usefulness to the detective. 

The scene in front of them was fairly straightforward. A red ice deal had gone bad and resulted in the dead body they stood over. The old house looked like it should have been condemned years ago, but was clearly being lived in and having drug traffic moving in and out each day. Now, it was quiet except for the CSI teams processing the scene and the two detectives investigating, seeing what they could learn from the environment. 

“The victim appeared to be under the influence of something prior to his death,” Nines supplied. He touched a finger to the blood in the victim’s chest that was beginning to coagulate around the shotgun blast. As he touched the sample to his tongue for forensic testing, Gavin made a disgusted sound.

“Oh, come the fuck on, you do that too?!” he hollered. “I was hoping that was just a Connor thing, fuck’s sake.”

“No, detective, being able to sample forensic evidence in real time is a valuable skill that I was given as well as Connor. I understand it may be unpleasant to look at, perhaps you could avert your eyes when I do so. I intend to continue making use of the skills I have at my disposal.” He stood gracefully to his feet. “However, I can tell you now that our victim was high on a near-lethal dose of red ice just before his death. It would create additional aggressive behavior that could prompt him to go on the offence and result in confrontation that ended in his death. His killer can’t be far, though. He was wounded in the fight.”

“And how do you know that much?” Reed asked, folding his arms. 

“The victim was armed with a pocket knife, based on the imprint on his waistline, but the knife is nowhere to be found. There are also trace amounts of blood splatter on the victim’s hands, suggesting that he was able to use the knife before he was killed. It’s possible our attacker hasn’t made it far.”

Humming, Gavin nodded. “Yeah, you may be onto something. I’m going to go look upstairs, you look around for possible exits.”

“Yes, Detective.” He listened as the shorter man made his way up the creaking stairs in the home, observing his footsteps as they wandered from room to room. As Richard made his way around the lower level, peering around for any evidence that could lead them to the attacker. Each window and door was inconclusive, though. He started walking towards the bottom of the stairs, preparing to call out to the detective, when he heard his name called.

“Nines, get your ass up-!” was all Gavin managed before he was cut off. The android didn’t hesitate to leap up the stairs, long legs skipping steps in his hurry to track down the wayward detective. When he made it to the top of the stairs, he quickly followed the sound of scuffing boots and heavy breaths to a bedroom, where he found Gavin Reed, appearing unharmed, while their suspect had him on the wrong end of the shotgun. Gavin’s hands were up, not daring to reach for his gun while the man’s shotgun was aimed at his chest. 

Nines took only a moment to evaluate the situation, seeing that the detective was facing him, looking over the suspect’s shoulder. The shotgun wielding man seemed unaware that there was someone behind him, too high and panicked to have heard him approach. Nines wasted no time rushing up behind him, watching as the man whirled around. In just a moment, he preconstructed the man’s most likely responses to being rushed at, and calculated that his chances of being injured were relatively low and his chances of success were relatively favorable. 

As he neared the suspect, he saw the barrel of the shotgun whip around and point directly at his face. In an instant, Nines ducked down and was able to reach forward and grab the gun’s barrel, yanking it out of the man’s hands as the trigger was pulled. The shotgun fired, the blast deafening everyone in the room temporarily. Nines pushed through the shock of it, using the suspect’s surprise and poor reaction time to grab him and throw him to the ground with a thud. By then, several officers that had been at the scene downstairs come rushing in, guns drawn. They assessed the situation and quickly get the suspect controlled and taken down, ready to be taken to the DPD. Detective Reed ran forward, his hands heavy on Nines’ shoulders, forcing the taller android to look at his face. 

“Look, look at me! Nines, look at me, a-a-are you hurt? You okay?” he asked, words tumbling over each other in panic.

“Yes, I am unharmed, Detective. I apologize for any distress-”

“Fucking _distress?_ Go fu-f-fuck yourself! You could have been sh-shot in the face!” Sighing heavily, Reed rubbed his face, his hand brushing over the tilted scar on his nose. “You’re not hurt, though?”

Nines shook his head. “No, I am not damaged. I apologize for acting rashly and putting myself in danger, and for the distress that caused you. However, I must prioritize the safety of you and other humans versus myself, as I’m much more easily replaceable.” 

“Y-y-you know what? Go fuck yours-self,” Gavin grumbled, pushing away from Nines and walking back into the hallway, his footsteps receding down the stairs. The android turned around and followed at a respectful distance, pondering exactly what had caused the emotional reaction. He had simply been doing his job and attempting to reduce possible harm to the detective, why was that distressing?

Once they got downstairs again, Gavin seemed intent on avoiding Nines. He went outside and talked with some of the responding officers about the suspect, then to the CSI crew about the evidence they’d gathered. He seemed fairly content not to even look in the android’s direction. In fact, more than once, he seemed to be purposefully ignoring him. 

After several minutes, Richard became tired of the detective’s immaturity. He waited until Gavin was standing to the side, not talking with anyone nor actively busy, to approach him. When the detective saw him coming, he didn’t try to hide as he rolled his eyes. 

“Detective, I feel it’s necessary for us to speak. My actions upstairs have clearly upset you, and it’s in the best interest of our professional relationship that we discuss how you’re feeling. I understand that it was a high stress situation, but why have you continued to experience irritability and stress now that the situation has been resolved?”

Gavin snatched Richard’s arm harshly, dragging him further from the scene, outside of ear shot from the other people on the scene. “Listen, you asshole, I’m only, I’m only going to say this once. Yeah, I’m fucking piss-piss-pissed off. You don’t get to say that-that kind of shit, you don’t get to s-s-say you’re replaceable. That’s fu-fucking bullshit. I-I don’t give t-t-two shits if you think that’s true, bu-but those Cyberlife fucks? T-they’re not going to help you-you anymore. They’re not going to-to-to do shit for you. I can go to a-a goddamn hospital, okay? You can’t. You-you’ve got nothing right now. You can’t do th-tha-that kind of s-sh-hit, that was stupid and-and wreckless. A-a-and now you’ve got me all fu-fucking pissed and stut-stuttering like a fuck-fucking idiot.” He clamped his mouth shut, even more frustrated as his mouth seemed to fail him worse and worse, just like anytime he got too worked up. 

Nines’ grey-blue eyes softened and his shoulders drooped, suddenly realizing his error. “I’m so sorry, Detective Reed. I was unaware of the effect that my actions would have on you, and I should have taken that into account. I will do my best, in the future, to be more aware of the impact of my actions, and do my best to keep myself from sustaining damage. Is there anything else I can do to assist you in regards to your elevated emotions?”

Gavin scowled, but it was devoid of any real bite. “N-no, fucker. I’m f-fine. Just… don’t do that again, o-okay? Thanks for saving my ass, b-but don’t do that again.”

Nodding, Nines placed his hand over his thirium regulator. “You’ve got my word, Detective.”

As he turned to walk back to the scene, Gavin tilted his head to remark over his shoulder, “It’s Gavin. Gavin is fine.”

Smiling, Nines fell into step beside the detective. “Gavin it is.”

**Author's Note:**

> By the way, Gavin absolutely strikes me as the type with a speech impediment (I mean, come on, he can't even say "fuck" decent in the game when he's upset) and I personally have a really bad stutter when I'm tired or upset or too excited, so I thought it would be fun to project that right onto our favorite asshole detective. 
> 
> Please drop a comment, let me know how I'm doing! I'm still VERY new to writing at all, but especially writing fanfiction and I want to do these characters right!


End file.
